


What If I Told You I Made It?

by Notmarysue



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Half Infected Paul Matthews, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, The Black and White (Black Friday), Watchers With A Thousand Eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notmarysue/pseuds/Notmarysue
Summary: The last few days of Emma's life has been one twist after another. At least this is a rare positive one.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	What If I Told You I Made It?

Emma screamed and cried to the shadowy figures hidden in the darkness. She could see their glee filled eyes and toothy smiles focused on the group as they continued to clap and cheer. What were they? These watchers with a thousand eyes. Why were they so overjoyed by her suffering? Could they hear her? They must have been able to. She was shouting so loud she wouldn’t be surprised if the dead could hear her. Heck, the dead could hear her. She was surrounded by them. All those corpses, grinning at their fates, wearing the faces of the people she had known. People she had secretly cared about and taken for granted.

Oh Paul. Sweet Paul. What had they done?

She let out one last desperate call for help as she was forced towards the exit. Part of her wished they’d just hurry up and kill her already. She’d had enough theatrics for one lifetime. Her throat stung was she yelled. It was no good. She was going to die in fucking Clivesdale. She looked up to Paul, who kept a firm grip on her wrist as he pulled her to the door. If only it had been anyone other than him.

“Paul, please.” She begged as she started to cry for the first time since her sister died.

“It’s okay, Emma.” He smiled. He placed one hand on the door handle before facing her. “Just trust me.”

He yanked the door open and, in one rapid move, he pulled them both through before releasing his grip and spinning back around. He slammed the door shut, preventing the mob from following. Without addressing Emma, who stood stunned, he grabbed one of the three plastic chairs that lined the white wall of the corridor and jammed it under the handle. The infected hoard rattled the handle and banged on the wood but seemed stuck for the time being.

“There. They’re all good on the choreography and emotional manipulation, but basic puzzle solving, not so much.” Paul explained as he inspected his handy work. Instead of a reply, he was met with a blow to the back of the head. He reached up to find no blood, only a throbbing lump. He turned to Emma to find her shakingly wielding a chair. Luckily for him, Emma was far too weak to any real damage.

“I’ll kill you, you murderer.” She screamed.

“Emma, it’s me.” He insisted.

“You’re not Paul, you asshole. You’re one of those…things.”

“Come on, Em. If I was one of them, I would have killed you already.” He casually pointed out. Rage shot through her eyes as threw the chair aside and she charged at him, knocking him to the ground. She tried to reach his neck. He turned his head towards the ground to protect himself.

“Son of a bitch. Try singing with a broken neck.” Emma cried as she wrapped her hands around his throat.

“Em, you’re hurting me.” Paul choked.

“I’ll teach you not to act like the man I love.”

“You what?” He exclaimed. He summoned the strength to straighten his back and brush Emma off. She sat back up again instantly but didn’t re-start her attack. Instead, she just stared at him. He stared back, unsure how to react.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you fighting back or…or doing that creepy song thing or…just do something.” She panted.

“Do what?” He scowled, rubbing his neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why are you here? Why are you doing this?” She sobbed.

“Saving you? It was either that or let them get you.” He snapped, gesturing towards the closed room. Emma paused, catching her breath.

“You’re…you’re really him, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He nodded as he got to his feet. He offered his hand to pull her up. She accepted it and let herself be pulled into a standing position.

“Okay well…” She thumped his arm. Not hard, but to play on Paul’s already frayed nerves. “What do you think you’re playing at scaring me like that?”

“Ow, I really can’t win with you today, can I?” He huffed. “I had to go along with it, make them think I was in on the show. They like the drama. If I hadn’t given them something to keep them entertained, they would have just killed you. I tried to leave hints though. I thought they were obvious. I mean come on ‘I’m still the man you trust’, ‘you have to sing to survive’, ‘put your thoughts to lyrics and you’re playing the game now’. That’s all classic subtext.”

“Subtext? Do I look the kind of girl who paid attention in English class?”

“Do you actually want me to answer that or…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Emma sighed. “So, you’re fine then? You’re not infected.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to describe. I know I’m still alive. I know I’m still me. I can hear their songs in my head and I can lead them too if I try hard enough, but I don’t think they can control me. Not without a lot of effort. I think when I set the grenade off, the shock to my system stopped the transformation. But it was amazing Emma, for a second, just before the explosion, I could hear every planet and every universe the apotheosis had touched. Thousands and thousands of languages in unison. I could understand all of it.”

“What about now? Do you hear anything now?”

“Now, I just hear them. Our little town of Hatchetfield.” He shrugged.

“You’re part of it now.” She mumbled.

“But I’m still me, Emma.” He insisted. “No matter what.”

They didn’t get a chance to continue their conversation before Colonel Schaffer marched over.

“Ben, Kelly, what the Hell is going on here?” She asked.

“Do we really need to do the whole fake name thing? It’s just the three of us.” Asked Paul.

“Forget that. Where have you been?” Emma snapped. “I’ve been screaming for ages.”

“You’re a very lucky woman, Kelly. You’ve lasted longer than most.” Schaffer commented.

“I’m painfully aware.” She shouted.

Deafening knocks filled the air. The infected weren’t used to being ignored for so long and they weren’t going to let their presence be so easily forgotten.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

“Well, your ‘secure’ facility seems to be a little overrun right now.”

“Impossible. They were dead when we brought them here.”

“Technically they’ve been dead for quite a while.” Paul pointed out. “That hasn’t really stopped them being active.”

“Wait, you deliberately let them in here?” Emma exclaimed.

“After we neutralised Hatchetfield, we took some of the corpses for study. Ben here was the only one with a pulse.” Schaffer explained.

“That name feels so wrong.” Paul squirmed.

“Oh good. I’m glad the organisation responsible for our survival has a firm grip on zombie rules.” Emma smiled sarcastically.

“Are they all in there?” Schaffer asked Paul.

“Yes mam.” He nodded.

“We’ll handle it. We’re going into a code red lockdown, so shut up and do as your told. I want to far out of the way while we’re dealing with this.” Schaffer ordered.

If it was any other day, Emma might have complained. She would have at least made a snarky comment. Yet she was far too exhausted. Everything ached and her head was killing, though whether that was from her injuries or from the confusion of her friends’ refusal to stay dead she’d never know. She made little fuss as she was dragged off to an underground bunker. The walls were cold and metal. The whole facility had very little in the way of luxury. She sat rigid while gunshots fired above, exchanging few words with Paul. Despite everything, she quickly found herself settling into a comfortable silence with him. After it all, that’s all either of them really wanted. Just a few minutes of silence.

By the time night fell, the threat was eliminated, with what Schaffer described as ‘minimal casualties’. This time the bodies were incinerated. There could be no more breaches. The next day, Emma and Paul, now with their fake documents and new identities officially secured, were escorted to their promised patch of land. Ahead was a new life. Not a normal one, but a fresh one.

“You two be careful out here.” Schaffer instructed them as they stood outside the new. “I don’t want to her about either of you getting into trouble, understand?”

“It’s not us you have to worry about.” Emma muttered. “It’s everything else that’s the problem.”

“Can’t control that I’m afraid. We’ll be in touch in a few months, just to check up on you. If you’re ever concerned about anything, just contact us. We’ll be here, no matter what.” Schaffer assured them before finally leaving them alone.

“You okay?” Paul asked softly.

“I’m fine.” Emma grumbled.

“Are you sure? We both went through a lot back there. Listen, I’m really sorry about scaring you back there. They followed me out, got the medical staff who tried to intervene. I didn’t know any other way to help you.”

“No, really it’s fine. It’s just…” She swallowed. “Paul, can I tell you something?”

“Sure. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s going to sound really fucking weird.”

“Emma, we just escaped a hoard of singing zombies that came to our town from another world. How much weirder can it get?” He laughed.

“Okay, well. When you were attacking me, or I guess _pretending_ to attack me, I saw something. The room became so much bigger and out in the darkness there were these…things. Like people but…but not quite. Not like us. They were watching us. They were cheering the whole thing on.”

“Don’t be silly, Em. You were just imagining things.” Paul replied. He tried to keep his smile, but she could see it falter.

“I’m not being silly, Paul. I know what I saw.” She scowled.

“Emma, listen to me.” Paul said firmly, placing his hands on her shoulders. Emma jumped, not at the physical contact, but at the sudden seriousness in his voice. “You never talk about them, do you understand?”

“Paul-“ 

“Because if they hear you talking about them, they’ll know we can see them back, and I don’t know what they’ll do if they realise that. So, whatever happens, no matter how bad it gets, never let them know you can see them, okay?”

“O-okay.” Emma nodded.

“Okay.” Paul smiled before backing away. “Now, lets get inside and explore the new house. I can feel a storm coming.”

He took her hand and guided her towards the front door. As he fumbled with the keys, Emma looked back and scanned the surrounding area. It was calm and peaceful, but still she couldn’t relax. There in the distance, she spotted them. A single pair of eyes trained directly on her. Even now, someone, or something, was watching.


End file.
